


I'm Breaking Out

by HittingOnAllSevens (ashengem)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, More of a headcanon, Spoilers through s9e18, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6969787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashengem/pseuds/HittingOnAllSevens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd say he was bored, but...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Breaking Out

He came to in a completely blank space. At least, it's blank to the human eye. It's entirely white, without a single shadow. There's a small white table and an equally small white chair, the same colour as the white walls, floor and ceiling. Even though it's well-lit, there doesn't appear to be a source, as if the light was generated from everywhere. The only reason Gabriel even knew about the table and chair is that he could see where the atoms of the pieces begin. It's worse than Purgatory, he decided. The overwhelming blankness of it, the basic, mission-style furniture straight out of an IKEA catalogue, the total lack of anything visual to do or see, has been his whole existence since Metatron called him back from nothing to mess with Castiel. Of course, as soon as the Scribe was finished with him, Gabriel found himself in this...emptiness. He'd say he was bored, but...

Gabriel is incredibly busy. To the untrained eye, he looks relaxed, or even asleep. He is leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, hands resting on his stomach, the very picture of repose. The thing is, Gabriel's still every inch the archangel, and is working very hard to break the sigils, so many sigils, unseen under the whitewash, trapping him in this room and containing him. He's been at it for roughly two years, he figures.

It's been such slow going. Only having access to a mere trickle of his Grace, at the beginning, it took so long to scratch through just one sigil. As he broke each one, he gained just a little more of his own back, speeding up the process, but still so slow. It would do him no good to get him suddenly noticed by Metatron, while still locked in his little white box.

Today is like every day before it. Except finally, finally, he breaks the last sigil. He basked in his triumph for a moment, a determined smirk crawling across his face. He opens his eyes suddenly.

And snaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! It's my first fic here.


End file.
